


Incoming.

by One_Real_Imonkey



Series: Twisted Memories AU [4]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Assassins & Hitmen, BAMF Obi-Wan Kenobi, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Jedi missions, Knives, Mand'alor Jango Fett, Mind Attacks, Minor Injuries, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Poisoning, Protective Jango Fett, Psychic Violence, Rid'alor Obi-Wan Kenobi, Romantic Fluff, Sabotage, Snipers, Temple guards, The Dark Side - Freeform, The Force, injuries, not a main character, romantic dinners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-01
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:47:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770887
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/One_Real_Imonkey/pseuds/One_Real_Imonkey
Summary: Not everyone sees the new peace between the Jedi and the True Mandalorians as a good thing.Some people take it farther than others.
Relationships: Jango Fett/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Series: Twisted Memories AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2146377
Comments: 6
Kudos: 148





	Incoming.

**Author's Note:**

> Is this angst or fluff or the balance of both?  
> The third I hope...  
> I don't own Star Wars.  
> Please enjoy.

The first  assassin came in the night.

Came for Obi-Wan while they slept in their bed, exhausted and unaware.

She didn’t make it past the guards.

The second assassin came months later, though they did not realise it until after his death. 

He attacked on a mission, while Obi-Wan and his Master were protecting delegates during an election. It was assumed this rogue Mandalorian, who bore no clan  aliik or clan colours, was nothing more than a  Nassade . A lone mercenary, they’d assumed, hired to kill one of the delegates. 

He had tried several times over the course of the mission before his life had been lost in the same way as many of the assassin had been, their capture impossible in the situation. Every death was saddening, whether light or dark, but capture was not always possible, and the information they’d held was lost, including  their targets and their employer.

They did not find out his true target was Obi-Wan, that it was his  belief that no  Jetii could ever have the right to stand by their  Mand’alor’s side or in any place in their court except on their knees in chains, until their mission was over and his belongings looked over.

Jango’s face had darkened over the comm, hands shaking slightly and voice tight with every question he asked. That this assassin was dead and Obi-Wan safe didn’t seem to brighten him much, because there would be more and they both knew it.

They were right.

The third had come while Jango was in a meeting that had run late into the night, Obi-Wan asleep in their bed alone. The assassin had made it into the room, but faced with a lightsabre and someone who knew how to do it, they hadn’t been a threat for long.

The attempts were not too frequent, most of the time. After the first few the majority were too cowardly to make an attempt on the  Haat’ad now they knew they would be met with strong resistance. That it would not be an easy shot and that the True  Mandalorians grew with size and strength and passion, not yet a clan that could make a move on their home, but one strong enough to offer challenge to any threat and to claim themselves a faction.

That and Jango had made quite a name of himself in the Bounty Hunters ranks, and there was a code against attacking the family of another bounty hunter. In fact, there was a code against putting a bounty on the family of a bounty hunter, without exceptional reason.

The majority of Bounty Hunters made the wise decision that a hit on the Haat’ad Rid’alor was not worth the risk nor social persecutions.

But that did not mean they stopped.

.

.

.

The first shot came from the rooftops as they walked through the plaza.

Obi-Wan had sensed it, pushing them both forwards, the blaster mark scoring the path where he’d been standing. The second shot had come so quickly after that again all he’d been able to do was dodge and keep Jango from the bolts equally, but  Mando’ade were already drawing weapons and jetpacks were lighting. The third and fourth shots were directed into the dirt by his sabre and there was no fifth because the assassin had been knocked from his perch.

“Obi, are you ok?”

“I’m fine, you?”

“Fine. I’m ok.”

“Alor. Rid’Alor.”

They both turned, finding the  on duty guards hauling the now cuffed sniper towards them from across the courtyard.

“Is it bad that they’re that quick at this now?” Jango whispered to him.

“Let’s just take it as a sign of competency.”

“Wanna bet which of us they were after?”

“Shh, uh,  vor’e Aran Riam.”

“Alor, Rid’alor. The sniper. Shall we take him to the cells?”

“Please. We can deal with him tomorrow.” Jango ordered.

The  Aran’e hauled the assassin away and Obi-Wan turned to Jango.

“Tomorrow, hmmm?”

“I  believe I owe my  riduur a dinner date.”

“I  believe you do.”

.

The second attempt came that evening, leaving the restaurant, as they retuned through the plaza back to their home, the ‘palace’ as Myles  insisted on calling it.

An unarmoured man with a knife, out of nowhere aiming for the gaps in Obi-Wan's armour.

That they’d both had a little to drink and a lot to eat, their reflexes were marginally slower than they would usually be, but more than enough for the knifeman.

Jango was just thanking the  Ka’ra Obi-Wan was wearing his  beskar’gam rather than his robes.

The knifeman went down hard and wouldn’t be getting up for a while.

“Were you going to bet on me?”

“Our guards are good; how did they get out.”

“Jango... this isn’t the same person.”

“Two in one day?”

Again Aran’e were already running forwards but judging by their stances they were as shocked as he was that there was another assassin. They were usually one a month, not two a day.

Unease settled in Jango’s gut that night, back in their apartment, as he knelt down and bandaged the small gash on his riduurs arm, carefully wrapping the wound so not to cause any more pain, cleaning off the blood and doing everything he could to keep his hands from shaking. Two attacks in one day.

It didn’t sit right.

Obi-Wan offered him a sweet smile that was supposed to reassure, cupping Jango’s face and lifting him up for a kiss, before pressing their foreheads together.

“I’m safe,  ner cyare . I'm fine.”

Technically, Jango knew, he was fine. It was a small cut, the assassins were in a cell under heavy guard, and he’d added a few extra guards to the night shift, not that he’d told Obi that he’d done so.

That didn't make his sleep any easier that night, even with his  riduur safe and breathing in his arms.

.

The poison that had been destined for Obi-Wan's food was missed because his  riduur set off for the Temple without eating. One of the cooks had found the bottle in the rubbish and had summoned guards and come running, only for the food to have been untouched.

Three attempts in less than a full day cycle.

He was going to be sick.

“I want to talk with the assassins, now.”

“Alor... they... they’re dead.”

“What?”

“The guards noticed before they took the pills, but it was too late. They were dead before the cell door opened.”

“ Kriff .  Haar’chak ! Shabuire.”

Two dead and no leads on the third.

Obi would be back just after noon.

“I want two  aran’e to go to the Temple. When Obi-Wan leaves, he cannot do so alone. The trip from there to here is all too open, and it’s all too clear he’s being targeted.”

“Elek Alor.”

“ Kov’aran , someone that’s been to the  Jetii’yaim before, the  Jetii’aran’e are getting more used to having  Mando’ade around, but people they know...”

“Of course, Alor.”

Relations with the Jetiise might be the best they’d ever been, but they were still pretty fragile. One wedding, Royal as it may have been, was not enough to end centuries of fighting overnight, and even if the Haat Mando’ade and the Jetiise were on good (ish) terms, there was still Kyr’tsad and the New Mandalorians.

Ugh, New Mandalorians, huut’un the lot of them.

“Alor, this isn’t a random hit. This is planned.”

“I know. We need to find out who’s behind this.”

His money would be on  Kyr’tsad , but he wasn’t discounting the New  Mandalorians either.

Sure they spoke of pacifism, but they had to retain their power somehow. And sure,  Kryze might not be the sort to order assassinations, but  Almec or one of her other ‘advisors’.

.

.

.

Obi-Wan returned safely, though very concerned as to why he was  being escorted.

Jango didn’t know how he kept his voice steady as he informed Obi-Wan of the poison, and of the bomb they found in his favourite meditation spot.

He didn’t know how Obi-Wan kept his calm and his focus and practicality when the threat to his life was so pronounced.

No, he did know.

He knew because he knew about  Bandomeer , and about  Melida /Daan, and about almost every mission he’d taken, how prevalent the threat so often was to his life and how often his ability to focus through it kept others alive. His selfless, brave and amazing  riduur , so protective of others and so capable to be clear-headed in a crisis.

He didn’t know whether he adored it or whether it drove him mad.

But that night, he was pretty sure it was the latter, as he paced back and forth while his riduur’s stubbornness drove him to distraction.

“Ob’ika!”

“Don’t  Ob’ika me. My answer is no.”

“Your Temple Guards and just your Temple in general, it’s almost impenetrable.”

“I’m not hiding.”

“I just want you safe. This isn’t the real  Keldabe , this isn’t a fortress with all our defences between any outside assassin and the  alor’aliit . This is just a building, it’s walls aren’t reinforced, there are no areal  defences , it’s  vulnerable . We're vulnerable.”

“We’re still in the centre of the settlement, and we do have guards, and I have my own defences, and you. I will not let a few assassins drive me from your side.”

Jango knew in that second, his  riduur would not budge. He would not leave.

Jango  loved him for it.

Jango hated him for it.

“I cannot bare to see you dead, ner riduur.”

A hand squeezed his shoulder,  turning him so their eyes met.

“And I cannot bare to make you weak, which I would, should I hide. Cyare, you know we are stronger together, in combat and in politics and in every other way.”

He shrugged the hand of his shoulder, returning to his pacing and admittedly desperate pleas.

“But it would not be running. You do not spend all your nights here anyway, you could claim some training you had to do, missions you had to take, something, anything. It would not have to seem as though you were hiding, merely doing your duty as a Jedi as well as my  riduur .”

“At the same time as the assassins just happen to be so relentless? At best people would see it as my hiding, at worse they might think the Jedi are trying to keep me from you. That someone had looked at what was going on and decided you could not keep me safe and locked me in the Temple for my own safety. And that would be both a slight to you and a rift between our people we don’t need.”

“I hate how well trained you are in negotiations and  politics; it makes winning an argument with you impossible.”

“It’s training for you?”

“It’s unfair to me.”

“It’s late for us both. Come to bed.”

He turned from where he’d stopped, glaring out of the window, as though he could have been spotting the assassins coming, to see his riduur, his mesh’la riduur, bare of his armour and the top half of his kute.

Oh great, first he was beating him in debates, now he was being unfairly attractive to play on Jango’s weakness and get him to give up.

He was always unfairly attractive, but this just wasn’t fair, no-one should be able to look that lovely after beating Jango in a debate what was about his own safety. 

They wanted to kill him.

They wanted him dead.

He should not be so relaxed about this.

“ Cyar’ika , please, I want you safe.”

“Then come and keep me safe.”

Oh  kriffing hells, he was being seduced by his riduur. 

He was weak, honestly. It was ridiculous.

Myles was right.

Obi left the bed to help unfasten and remove his armour, gentle kisses and  reassuring touches as he went.

“You don’t have to seduce me to convince me to let you stay.”

“Does that mean it was working?”

A hand ran through his curls and he tilted his head with the hand, before twisting to do the same back and press their lips together.

Without his armour, it was far easier to pick up his  riduur and drop him to the bed, laughing for the first time that day as he bundled his  riduur in their duvet like one of the pastries you could buy in the square and lay himself on top, laughing as he wriggled and at the squeak that escaped.

“Jango,” Obi-Wan laughed in response, “this is a bit excessive.”

“You don’t feel safe?”

“I feel very safe, but I'm not sure we can get up  too much like this, and aren’t you cold?”

“Gar cuyir ner tracyn.”

“Oh you sap.”

.

.

.

The appearance of  Jetii’aran’e in Little  Keldabe a few days later raised the concern of the people a little further. They were of course concerned already,  Jetii or not their  Rid’alor was loved by almost all and a potential assassin was not something they wanted after their  Rid’alor , but the  Jetii’aran’e , while a show of faith on the  Jetiise’s part, also showed how dire the situation may be.

The  Jetiise trusted the  Mando’ade with Obi-Wan enough that they were willing to let him stay in Little  Keldabe , but felt having guards from the Temple was best.

They weren’t going to argue with people protecting their Rid’alor.

Of course, Jango, Myles and a few others knew that the only reason he’d been allowed to stay in Little  Keldabe , even some of the time, was because of the same political ramifications he’d lain out to Jango. He’d told his Master and his Council and they’d agreed. 

Then again, after Galidraan, it felt as though the  Jetiise were very willing to help the Haat’ad now.

To right their wrongs, or something.

Jinn spent more time in Little  Keldabe too, wanting to keep his ad safe, Jango supposed. 

The  Jetii’aran’e still unnerved his people though, and Jango too, if he was being honest. The robes, the masks, all faceless and undifferentiated and identical. Obi-Wan had explained that to be the Temple Guard was to show ultimate unattachment, dedication to nothing but the people in their protection, their home and their knowledge. 

At least  Beskar’gam was more unique, and you could take your  b uy’ce off, though he could recognise some patterns from their design on Obi-Wan's  beskar’gam .

The barely speaking, faceless, anti-social  Jetii’aran’e proved their worth quickly. They may not have reacted to taunts or challenges to spars, but the first few assassins that tried once they arrived did very poorly, and though he knew it wasn’t going to be permanent, there was something  arousingly intimidating about his  Riduur striding through the corridor flanked by those specific  aran’e .

But by the end of the second week, with at least one assassin every day, Jango’s nerved were frayed to their ends.

They hadn’t uncovered the person who’d hired these assassins, they hadn’t found a way to end this yet.

They had to be lucky every time.

The assassins only had to  succeed once.

Only once.

.

.

.

The only warning they had was the  Jetii’aran’e suddenly tensing, as though bracing themselves, before Obi-Wan dropped.

Swayed and collapsed straight into Jango’s arms.

They'd been walking down the corridor, there was no angle for a shooter, no threat close enough to attack, guards in front of and behind them.

But mid-stride, he’d slumped.

Jango's first thought had been poison, but they were checking everything, weren’t  they?

The  Jetii’aran’e had lit their sabres, backs to him, watching for the  threat they’d sensed.

This wasn’t a threat from one of the Mandalorian factions.

It was from the dar’Jetiise.

A darksider, maybe a sith.

“ Mand’alor ,” one of them started, respectful of his title as always, “I  believe we should attempt to get Padawan Kenobi to his armour. The  Beskar may be enough to block this attack.”

“How?”  Myles demanded.

“ Beskar muffles the Force. Someone is attempting to use the dark to get past his shields.  Beskar should protect  against that.”

“One issue, Obi-Wan's  Buy’ce isn't  Beskar ,” Jango stated, “It’s a  cortosis-durasteel mix. For the exact reasons you just described.”

“The armoury,” Myles stated, “we have spares.”

“Let’s go.”

He adored Myles quick thinking as he scooped his  riduur into his arms and ran, knowing he was pushing his escort to keep up.

But no assassin could succeed.

Especially no dha’jetii.

He shivered at the thought, that someone was so close to taking his  cyar’ika from him.

But the armoury was close, and the  buy’ce as effective as they’d hoped.

Obi woke with a gasp and he pressed their foreheads together so quickly he didn’t consider how disorienting it might be until after he’d done it.

But his  riduur’s hand had cupped his  buy’ce and pressed them closer.

He was alive, he was ok.

.

.

.

“A darksider?”

“I know what I felt, Master Windu. Someone dark rattled my shields so heavily I passed out, and I know they ordered the other attacks. Master, it makes sense.”

“It does?” Jango was glad he wasn’t the only person to have asked.

“Someone wants to divide us,  Mandalore and the Jedi. First it was Galidraan,” several people on both sides shivered or flinched, “a trap for both sides, not just to destroy us but to make sure we could not ally ourselves. But then Jango and I married, and we reunited out people again, or at least, we’re trying to.”

“But if you’re dead,” Jango concluded, “any alliance we’re forming, it could be lost. They need you out of the way.”

“ Kriffing hells. This is a plot. A large one, long term, and it needs to be investigated.”

Privately Jango agreed with Windu.

“How can we make sure they don’t take Obi-Wan down again, we can’t stop a psychic attack without the  buy’ce and he needs  the Force to be a Jetti.”

“Actually, Jango, Master Windu, I have the answer. There were runes drawn onto the bottom of my boots, and a few in other places as a trap, including under our bed to attack my shields and weaken them while I slept. I've removed them, mostly, though I'd like someone with more knowledge on Bogan runecraft to assist, but they were Bogan.”

“Runes to get through your shields. Runes to take you down. In Bogan, are you sure?”

“100%, Master.”

“We will investigate. We will do everything we can to find this  darksider , until then, we take better precautions.”

“Agreed, Master Windu,” Jango announced, “and we keep working on our relations. If their goal is to create a rift between the  Jetiise and the Haat’ad, we’re going to make sure that doesn’t form.”

**Author's Note:**

> Mando'a:  
> aliik- clan sigils  
> Nassade- nobody/clanless  
> Jetii- Jedi (singular)  
> Mand'alor- Sole Leader  
> Haat'ad- True Mandalorians  
> Rid'alor- spouse of the Sole Leader  
> Mando'ade- Mandalorians  
> Alor- Sole Leader  
> vor'e- thanks  
> Aran- guard  
> Aran'e- guards  
> riduur- spouse  
> Ka'ra- Stars/ ancient mythical council of elders  
> beskar'gam- beskar armour  
> ner cyare- my beloved  
> Haar'chak- damn it.  
> Shabuire- bastards  
> Elek- yes  
> Kov'aran- Head of the Guards  
> Jetii'yaim- Jedi home/ the Jedi Temple  
> Jetii'aran'e- Jedi Temple Guards  
> Jetiise- Jedi (Plural)  
> Haat Mando'ade- True Mandalorians  
> Kyr'tsad- Death Watch  
> Huut'un- cowards  
> Ob'ika- Little Obi-Wan (affectionate)  
> alor'aliit- Royal Family  
> ner riduur- my spouse  
> Cyare- beloved  
> mesh'la- beautiful  
> kute- underarmour  
> Cyar'ika- sweetheart/darling  
> gar cuyir ner tracyn- you are my fire  
> dar'Jetiise- Dark Jedi/sith  
> Buy'ce- helmet  
> Dha'Jetii- dark Jedi/sith
> 
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed.  
> My Tumblr is One_Real_Imonkey.  
> I'm open to prompts for things within this AU.  
> Please R+R.


End file.
